


Prove It

by chirichiri



Category: Cosmere - Brandon Sanderson, SANDERSON Brandon - Works, Stormlight Archive - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Gen, No Oathbringer Spoilers, renarin gift exchange, takes place before WoK
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 14:41:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13549485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chirichiri/pseuds/chirichiri
Summary: The Kholin bros sneak out at night to visit horses, and Adolin learns some new things about his little brother.





	Prove It

**Author's Note:**

> This is for ascindio on tumblr, for the Renarin gift exchange! I hope it's alright it's in Adolin's POV and not Renarin's? The story worked better that way so.
> 
> This takes place before Way of Kings, back when Renarin was 7 and Adolin 11.

“Rin, you sure you want to go through with this?”

Renarin nodded once, firm. He stared at the horse stable, which was across the still, dark courtyard. Spherelight shone through the half-opened doors, evidence of a late-working groom. The last obstacle in their way, after the brothers had slipped out of their bedroom window through tied-together sheets, dodged guard patrols, and quieted an excitable axehound that had almost given them away.

“Not that I’m scared or anything,” Adolin said hastily, standing behind Renarin and watching as his little brother dutifully watched the stables for any movement. “It’s not like we need our guards with us, since I’ll protect us—not that I’ll need to, since there’s nothing out here to be protected from, but you know I brought my sword with me just in case, not because I was worried or anything. I mean, we’re only sneaking into the stables in the middle of the night so you can meet the horses, and there’s nothing scary about that. It’s just that I’ve never—”

Renarin urgently flapped a hand at him. “Get down, get down! He’s coming out!”

“Who?”

“The groom, Adolin, the groom! He’s coming out of the stables—get down before he sees you!”

“He can’t see us, we’re hiding behind this wall,” Adolin grumbled, but obeyed, crouching down beside Renarin.

“Shhh. Here he comes.” Renarin went still, focusing on the groom as he stepped out of the stable doors, holding a lantern with infused spheres in it. The groom closed the double doors, latched it shut, and wandered off in the direction of the servant quarters. Renarin watched until he was out of sight before darting forward.

“Renarin!” Adolin whisper-shouted after him. “Someone might see you!” But he followed, running bent over double across the open courtyard.

Renarin was already unlatching the doors by the time Adolin caught up.

“But are you _sure_ ,” Adolin said, checking nervously over his shoulder that a guard wasn’t nearby. “I know Father said it wasn’t good for you to go near horses, and so you think this is the only way, but I’m sure I could—”

“This _is_ the only way,” Renarin said, pushing open the heavy stable door with his shoulder. “Father made it clear he doesn’t think I’m strong enough. So I’ll _prove_ it.”

Adolin stared at him. “Father doesn’t think that. Renarin, he just—”  
But Renarin was already slipping inside.

“Twelve Fools,” Adolin muttered as he followed. “Not ten. Twelve. Two more joined the ranks just barely . . .” He closed the door after him, anxious that a guard would spot it open and come over to check.

Renarin stood still and quiet in the darkness of the stable, listening to the soft whuffs and snorts of the horses surrounding him. He inhaled deep and slow, breathing in the sweet musk.

“Do you have a light?” he asked his brother quietly.

“No . . . there’s an oil lantern right here by the door but I don’t think—”

Renarin turned and took it from its hook. He reached for the pack of matches beside it, but Adolin beat him to it, holding them out of reach.

“Renarin!” Adolin objected. “Fire! In a stable! Not a good combination!”

“The flame will be protected by glass,” Renarin said impatiently, standing on his tiptoes and snatching at the matches in Adolin’s hand. “Hand me the matches.”

Adolin stepped back, lifting the matches higher and higher away to escape Renarin’s grasp. “I still don’t think—”

“Adolin, I need to _see_ them,” Renarin said, a note of yearning in his voice. He quit reaching, stepped back to put some room between them. “Please. We’ve come this far, farther than Father will _ever_ let me. Hand me the matches.”

Adolin sighed. He looked at his little brother’s face, but it was too dark to see much. He sighed again. “Fine,” he said, handing the pack over. “Just be careful. Father won’t let _me_ near horses ever again if this place catches fire.”

Renarin took a match, struck it, and lit the lantern. Yellow light swelled, illuminating the long walkway between the double row of stalls. Horses standing in their stalls around the two brothers perked their ears toward them, eyes bright, the light bouncing off their shiny coats. Renarin’s mouth formed an _O_. Adolin smiled, looking not at the horses, but his little brother.

Renarin took a step toward the nearest horse. “I’ve never been so close,” he whispered, reaching a hand out to the horse.

“Here, give me that. I’ll hold it for you.” Adolin stepped forward and took the lantern from him, who let it slip through his fingers. Then he moved back to the door, letting Renarin have his moment while he held the lantern high.

Renarin stepped closer to the stall, hand still stretched out. The horse—a chestnut mare Adolin recognized as Sisi—craned her neck forward, snuffling Renarin’s hand for treats. Renarin giggled as the whiskers tickled his palm. “So soft,” he murmured, stroking Sisi’s nose with his other hand. “And beautiful.” His eyes wandered from the mare’s head down her neck and over her body, her amber coat almost glowing in the light.

“Her name’s Sisi,” Adolin told him, still smiling at how happy Renarin was. “She’s fast. I’ve ridden her before. She acts all nice and polite at first, but once you trot out of her groom’s sight she’ll kick up her heels and gallop despite the rider on her back trying to get her to slow.”

A smile appeared on Renarin’s face. “I like her,” he said quietly, sliding his hand up her forehead to rub between her eyes.

“Her favorite spot is just behind her ears. She gets itchy there from the bridle.”

Renarin moved his hand up and Sisi lowered her head, turning it as if she knew where he was going and encouraged it. _Maybe she does know_ , Adolin thought. _Not just Rhyshadiums are smarter than chulls_. Renarin scratched his fingers just behind Sisi’s ears, where the smooth hairs of her neck morphed into her thick, snarly mane, and the horse let out a long sigh, ears relaxing to the sides as her eyelids drifted half-shut. Her bottom lip jutted out, the very image of a happy horse loving the attention.

Then, before Adolin could warn him, Renarin jerked his hand away to unlatch the stall door. His sudden motion startled Sisi, who jerked her head away and knocked her nose against his shoulder. He cried out and staggered back from the force of the blow, arms flailing as he fought to keep his balance before falling on his backside. The other horses snorted and tossed their heads, and one let out a long, high-pitched whinny. The sound of clomping hooves echoed down the stable.

Adolin hurriedly set down the lantern and went to Sisi, calming her with strokes and soft words. Once she settled, ears swiveling in confusion, he moved to the next and did the same. On and on until only a few outside the bubble of light still snorted and stamped their hooves occasionally. He came back to Renarin and crouched in front of him.

“Sorry,” he said, trying to meet Renarin’s eyes. “I should’ve warned you. Horses don’t like fast sudden movements.”

Renarin had pulled his legs up to his chin, arms wrapped around them, his face turned to the side so he didn’t look at Adolin. He said nothing, just tipped his head further so strands of black-and-yellow hair fell over his eyes.

“Hey.”

No reply.

Adolin sat down and slowly edged his foot out to bump Renarin’s. His brother twitched it away. Adolin withdrew his foot, then slowly edged out the other one to bump Renarin’s other. Renarin sighed and bumped it back. Adolin grinned.

“Let’s try it again, Rin. This time I’ll help you.”

“I just wanted to open her stall, pet her more.”

“It’s alright, Rin. She'll let you this time.”

“She didn’t want me touching her. She doesn’t like me, doesn’t like me near.”

“Come on, Rin, you know that’s not true. She just got startled. It’s not your fault. Let’s try it again. I’ll help you, Renarin.”

Renarin’s lips twisted into a frown. “No.”

Adolin’s smile fell. “No?”

“I . . . I don’t . . . You’re just so _good_ at it, Adolin.”

“Good at what?”

Renarin flicked a frustrated hand. “ _Everything_. Fighting, smiling, making friends, horses. I’m not. Everyone knows that. But I . . . I’d hoped that maybe I could try at something I’d never done before and be good. By myself.” He hugged his legs tighter, buried his face between his knees. His voice came out muffled. “Maybe then Father would be proud of me, would . . . would look past my illness and see a son he could be proud of, like . . . like you.”

Adolin’s shoulder sank, the place around his heart aching all of the sudden. “I . . . “ He found himself at a loss of words. Then he shook himself and forced out a chuckle, which made Renarin look up a little. “Me?” he said, still laughing. “Me, Renarin? You want to be like me?” He reached out and took Renarin’s shoulder, making his brother meet his gaze. He grinned at him. “Renarin, I wasn’t _born_ like this. I had to learn. Not by myself, but with others helping me. Like how I want to help you.”

Renarin’s gaze drifted toward Sisi, who’d turned around to munch up hay.

“At first, training with Master Zahel, I didn’t want his help. But he quickly showed me how much I needed it. And because I decided to let him help me, I can fight with a sword now! Sorta, at least. And sure, maybe I was able to calm the horses, but only because I watched a groom do it before. Renarin, you want to get good? You’ll need help. I, Adolin Kholin, son of the Blackthorn, nephew of the king, swear to you, my little brother, to help you. How’s that?”

Renarin brought his gaze back to Adolin, meeting his eyes. Adolin nodded encouragingly, still gripping his shoulder. Slowly, Renarin nodded.

“I accept your help.”

Adolin grinned. “Then let’s do it!” He let go of Renarin and hopped to his feet. Renarin followed a bit slower. “I’ll show you everything I know about horses! I’ll talk to Father and help him understand that you need practice riding, and even if that doesn’t happen for a while, we’ll keep coming here at night to learn other things!”

Renarin slowly nodded, a small smile beginning to form. Behind him, Sisi raised her head, ears perked toward the double doors.

“And that’s only the beginning,” Adolin said slyly. “We’ll—”

The stable doors burst open, two Kholin guards with spears running in. Adolin and Renarin jumped and the horses flew into another small panic.

“I thought I saw light in here,” one of the guards said above the noise, leveling his spear at the brothers. “And when we heard the racket you made, well—”

The other guard, the older of the two, gaped at them. “What are you two doing in here?”

“We came . . . running.” The first guard trailed off, his jaw dropping similarly to his companion’s. “Prince Adolin?”

Adolin stepped forward, opening his mouth to give an excuse as to why the Kholin princes, ages eleven and seven, were wandering the grounds in the middle of the night, and came up blank.

“Sleepwalking,” Renarin blurted.

All three looked at him.

“I, uh, I was sleepwalking,” Renarin stammered, hands squeezing into fists, fingernails digging into his palms. “Sleepwalking be-because of my ill—my illness and Adolin—” he sucked in a breath, “Adolin came after me. To help. Because I was sleepwalking.”

The guards continued to stare.

Adolin cleared his throat. “This is true,” he said. “Uhhh . . . yes. True.”

The older guard slowly nodded. “It’s . . . true,” he said finally.

Adolin smiled hopefully.

The guard blinked. “Well . . . well we should escort you back to your rooms.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Adolin began.

“I insist,” the guard said. “Come, brightlords. Brightlady Kholin would not be pleased to know you two were out of bed at these hours.”

Adolin and Renarin walked out with the guards, taking the lantern with them. Renarin turned his head and whispered, “Bye, Sisi.”

The mare pricked her ears at him.

Once they were out of the stables, the guards marching ahead of them, Adolin whispered to Renarin, “Again. In a couple of nights. We'll come back. I want you to meet a certain stallion."

“Why not tomorrow?” he whispered back. “What, you scared?”

Adolin grinned. “Just thought we should wait for another of your _sleepwalks_.”

A small smirk curled Renarin’s lips.

Adolin bumped his shoulder with Renarin’s. “That was pretty smart, thinking so fast. Got us out of trouble.”

Renarin rolled his eyes, but the smile stayed.

“You would make a good Wit. Didn’t Uncle Gavilar’s old one mysteriously disappear recently?”

Renarin laughed. “He got _assassinated_ , Adolin. By one of the highprinces. I don’t think I’d like the job.”

Adolin grinned. “Just thought it might interest you.”

“No,” Renarin said, “I’m going to be a _warrior_ , like Father.” He glanced at Adolin, as if nervous his brother thought otherwise.

Adolin considered his brother in the night, moonlight outlining his features and making his spectacles flash. “That,” he told Renarin, “is good. You don't have to be like me to prove yourself to Father, Renarin. You prove it to him, yeah. Prove to him you’re strong, Prove it, but as _you_ want to, not as Father does."

Renarin looked up at him and smiled. “I will.”


End file.
